


love bites so deep (and we got tiger teeth)

by echotovalley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echotovalley/pseuds/echotovalley
Summary: - a collection of soft klance prompts.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 107





	1. golden hour

**Author's Note:**

> between working on bigger wips, I want to write smaller prompts focusing only on humor, love, and happiness.
> 
> info guidelines for this collection can be found [here!](https://echotovalley.tumblr.com/post/615856398583087104/love-bites-so-deep-and-we-got-tiger-teeth-a)
> 
>  **prompt:** early morning walks while it’s still cold out  
>  **word count:** 1,189  
>  **rating:** general audiences  
>  **warnings:** mild language  
>  **additional tags:** fluff & comfort
> 
> song inspo: you need to know you keep me up all night - ILYSB (stripped) by LANY

* * *

_"Keith."_

His name is soft and low in Lance's voice, a comforting exhale that only has Keith shifting deeper into the covers. He'll move enough to get his arm out of the awkward angle it's at, but that's it. It won't matter that he's already awake - though not for long - he's committed to staying here.

If he opens his eyes, the gray light starting to filter into his room will be tinged with gold. Shadows will give way to a fuzzy halo he's never going to admit he sits in bed studying, watching. If he opens his eyes, it will mean getting up and leaving the warmth of the bed. Separating from the warm legs tangled with his own.

"Ke _ith."_

His name, that voice flecked with so much care, again, but closer. It sends a shiver down his spine and triggers an involuntary stretch that takes over his body. The full-bodied groan, deep in his chest and husky when it trips past his throat, is one thing when he's alone, but a whole other something when he's with someone's else - when they're as close as Lance is to Keith right now.

(This time, Keith doesn't catch the hitch in Lance's breathing or how still Lance goes, but he will with time. With more mornings.)

He'd have to be dead not to know that Lance doesn't at least have some reaction to it, but that's for those more mornings when he's not chasing sleep, hanging onto that place between dreaming and awake, ready to slip into the fall. Keith knows if he has to voice it, put thought into action and action into words and words into opening his eyes, it will all melt away. The shadows in his room will lose their fuzz and everything will switch to that focus and edge that daylight and waking gives it.

"Hey, my alarm went off. For your run, remember?" 

Warm fingertips dance over his shoulder and down his arm before they skip to his hip and a hand is tugging him over - Keith won't fight it, it gets him snug up against Lance and everything's instantly more warm and heavy. 

The kissing starts at his hairline, the top of his head, and trace down to his temple, winds over his cheekbone, until it gets down to the sensitive spot just under the corner of his jaw that's ticklish. There are more words, but Keith's winning the fight to sleep more, to stay in this spot just as it is because if he gets up he can't be sure they can find their way back to this place - this feeling.

(They can. They _do._ )

"Earth to Keeeith." This time, there's a wandering hand that sneaks up the edge of his t-shirt and a palm lays flat on his middle. "C'mon, I set my alarm and _everythiiing."_

Here's the deal - if Keith is in cardiac arrest, no running is going to get done. 

Because that's kind of what's happening here. 

In the burgeoning of this, of _them_ , of Keith and Lance as one word - they're spilling into each other's lives, acclimating and mixing their routines. Before, if they were in a bed together, it's heavy breaths and kisses so deep it takes Keith hours to resurface. Keith's adjusting and learning how not to black out anytime Lance rests his hand on his lower back or borrows Keith's hoodie, the fading notes of his cologne and shampoo with Keith's laundry detergent weaving together.

"I'm too tired. We can skip it."

Where he's still pressed so close, Lance's laugh ruffles Keith's hair. "You stayed up too late."

Keith scoffs, shuffles impossibly deeper under the covers because he knows this is going to lead to him admitting too much in the low, gray light of the morning. "We were watching a movie!"

 _"Yeah_ , with the intention of falling asleep. You didn't have to force yourself to stay awake."

His chest feels tight, thinking about settling into his bed last night - tucked tight next to each other as Lance balanced his laptop on his legs at an angle they could watch comfortably, pulling up Netflix. He lost count the number of times he broke focus with the movie to look at Lance, watch the light bathe over his features and the way his eyes would light up or when he would whisper-laugh when something funny happened.

Keith didn't want to go to sleep because he didn't want to miss anything.

Didn't want to miss Lance.

Wanted to burn it into his memory so when he would close his eyes, it would just be Lance relaxed in his bed and happy. Make his serotonin spike the instant he thought about how they got to where they are. That Keith's no longer just _looking_ at his best friend wondering what Lance's hair would feel like between his fingers, but knowing it intimately and a thousand other experiences that make Keith's heart spark.

Lance moves the comforter away from Keith's face. "I was looking forward to it."

He leans down to kiss Keith, slow, but quick touches that won't get them lost and wandering and searching hands forgetting what they had meant to do twenty minutes ago.

Which is an idea with its own countless merits, in Keith's mind - Lance laying over him, his weight grounding Keith and muffling out the world.

_But-_

Kosmo chooses that moment to nose his way past the door into Keith's bedroom, hopping up on the bed to whine and wag his tail because he knows what time it is. He wiggles in between them with his paws and nose going everywhere. He roots Keith out of the warm spot, Lance immediately goes to ruffling up his fur and scratching behind his ears. 

Once his dog gets his way onto the bed - there's no going back to sleep.

They pull themselves out of bed to begin getting dressed and it's unintentional when he glances over his shoulder, catching Lance pulling on his joggers. Their eyes meet - Lance raises an eyebrow and smirks at Keith but _seriously-_

"Dream on." Keith rolls his eyes and pitches one of his hoodies to Lance. "I was going to ask if you want to use this." He's ready faster than Lance, but he doesn't wait because he doesn't trust himself not to watch, even if it wasn’t his original plan. He still has to get Kosmo's leash. 

He's so sure this is what he wants, all he ever could want, and the force of that startles him. It happens the same moment they step out of Keith's apartment, the brisk morning air hitting them, Lance hissing, _"Holy shit."_

It sums up Keith’s minor existential panic pretty well.

They walk down the sidewalk facing toward the sun. The heat of the day is still far off, but the warmth reaching Keith's face tells him it will probably be another hot one. Now that he's out here, he's glad Lance got him up. 

As the sun warms more and raises higher, it outlines Lance a few steps ahead of him with Kosmo.

The light dapples his hair, the ends shining like gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! I want to contribute something positive during this time - as it turns out I'm writing this for you as much as I am for me because it is hard not being sad lately. I really hope you like this and it makes you feel better, even if it's just a little bit. ♡ come say hi to me on [tumblr!](https://echotovalley.tumblr.com/)
> 
> -I have a list of prompts I've picked from a couple of lists but I want to take prompts too. You can submit them (and I really hope you do!) to me through tumblr or here in the comments.
> 
> -please check out my information post [here! :)](https://echotovalley.tumblr.com/post/615856398583087104/love-bites-so-deep-and-we-got-tiger-teeth-a)


	2. classic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** coming out of a cryopod  
>  **rating:** general audiences  
>  **word count:** 1,580  
>  **warnings:** none  
>  **additional tags:** post-series, married boys, f l u f f & comfort  
> I was going to say it’s canon compliant but it’s kind of not. This happens post-series about 1 1/2 - 2 years later. Lance works with Keith on the Humanitarian Relief Effort and connecting more planets to Earth, Daibazaal, New Altea, etc. on a communications network. In one of my favorite AO3 tags of all time - “The Canon Universe But It’s My City Now”. It’s just klance being very married.

* * *

Even on a ship newer than a 10,000-year-old castle, there’s still not an elegant way to come out of the cryopod.

A real damper on Lance’s style and general vibe.

There’s still the tried-and-true taste of saline-not-saline in his mouth and his arms and legs still a little numb when his brain kick starts, opening his eyes and signaling for the system to gently yeet him out of the souped-up vegetable crisper head over heels. It’s still dizzying, just seeing the floor come up fast for you and only time enough to get out an _“Oh,”_ as you begin to accept your fate and hope against hope your brain eases the temporary paralysis of your legs to at least not pitch directly into the tile.

But there’s arms catching him, nice and strong and Lance shouldn’t but-

“Can you even reach?”

Those arms tighten their hold when Lance’s feet get under him, but won’t take any of his weight. A laugh ruffles the hair by Lance’s ear, snug and warm. Comfortable when he answers Lance back, “I could just let the floor rise up to meet you.”

“I love a man that can misquote the classics to me.” Lance turns his face into a head of dark hair, laughing and trying to cover up the very real deep breath he takes in. The smell of shampoo and conditioner to replace the clinical scent of the pods (another thing that no one seems inspired to change, even if those car scent things would do the trick and aren’t that expensive).

He gets his feet to hold a little bit of his weight, and with Keith’s help, shuffles over to a bed to sit down.

None of the med team’s in the room, but that’ll change soon. Keith will have to page them so post-pod diagnosis can get started. Still not something Lance is chomping at the bit to get rolling.

When he sits on the bed, his head immediately tips forward to rest against Keith’s middle.

“Hey.”

“You broke your promise.”

It isn’t said with malice or aggravation - just a galaxy’s worth of patience and fond matter-of-factness.

Lance huffs, getting his arms to do one thing, _get with the program enough,_ to rest his hands on either side of Keith’s waist. “I know, I’m a disaster. ‘m sorry.”

Keith cards his fingers through Lance’s hair, working gently away at the tangles. “I’m not mad, if you’re wondering.”

“Because you would have done the exact same thing.”

“We spend entirely too much time together.”

“Impossible.” Lance’s hand twitches, catching his eye because there isn’t a familiar glint teasing his peripheral vision and before he’s even fully pulled away from Keith to stare directly at his hand-

“I have it. I didn’t want it to get lost between the clean up and getting you into the medsuit and pod.” Keith ducks down, the angle’s a little awkward, but he gets it and Lance’s heart melts when he kisses the top of his head. “It’s back in our room. We weren’t sure how long you would be in and I still don’t like the idea of chancing the metals and stuff reacting weirdly with your skin from the pod conditions.”

“Take my ring off as many times as you want, I’m still very much a taken man.” Lance tuts, leaning back enough to tip his face away from Keith. “My husband is super good looking and cool and funny and he’ll probably be in here any moment to check on me so you might want to move along. Doesn’t really like seeing anyone getting fresh with the goods.”

Keith scoffs, gently tilting Lance’s face up to look at him. “The first time you legitimately had short term memory loss was hilarious and I’ll cherish until the end of time you being scandalized that I tried to help you out of the medsuit and then, completely mindblown when I told you _I_ was your _boyfriend_. But you’re bordering on dad joke overkill here.”

“I’m not in the cryopod _that_ often.” Lance wraps his arms the rest of the way around Keith’s middle and crowds him in, digging his chin into Keith’s stomach.

“No, but that joke is only funny so many times.”

Lance drags his hand up and down Keith’s back, works halfheartedly at a small knot in a spot just beside his spine. “Hey, I know I probably have like horrible cryo-breath, but I really want to kiss you right now.”

He isn’t fully prepared for the committed swoop Keith comes at him with, catching his mouth on a startled noise he won’t ever admit was a squawk. Lance has enough time to suck in a breath of air through his nose before Keith’s tongue is sweeping carefully across his bottom lip. It’s second nature to drop his mouth open, meet Keith in the middle and find the place where it’s really good.

It’s a struggle not to pull Keith closer, to not put pressure against the back of his thigh to get him to knee his way onto the bed and settle in Lance’s lap, but he’s still a little sore and dizzy.

He’ll die before he admits it out loud, but he doesn’t bounce back from cryosleep like he did when he was 17 - and even then, it wasn’t that graceful.

Lance pulls away enough to place one last kiss on Keith’s cheek, right under his eye. “And now I’m going to ask the least sexy thing ever - will you help me get out of the medsuit?”

Keith snorts and brushes his hands a few more times through Lance’s hair. “Well, how can a guy turn down an offer like that?”

Despite the jokes, it really is one of the least sexy things you could need help getting out of. The material is just as ridiculous as it has always been and will always seem to be, even if Lance thinks it’s pretty flattering on his body. He’s got the stellar broad shoulder to slim hip ratio that makes it work.

The romanticism ends every time when he inevitably punches himself in his face trying to free an arm.

Add another person and the chance of getting accidentally socked in the jaw doubles and it takes twice as long because no one can stop laughing long enough to make any progress.

Fumbling with a fabric that has to be rolled down in increments that doesn’t want to roll down. Seriously, is a zipper to much to ask? They can travel deep space and make flight suits that are streamline and safe, but medsuits are where that line gets drawn?

When they get it down to Lance’s hips without anyone getting punched in the face, it’s cause for celebration.

Even if Lance is winded and the pull of sleep threatens to tip back over him.

Paints quite a picture when Lance stands and has to hold onto Keith with both hands for balance while Keith pushes down the rolled up material with as much force as he can manage without hurting Lance when Ezor just _waltzes_ in and glides right up to them.

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

It’s a lot to focus on at once because Keith has turned to try to help Lance out by blocking the view while Lance scrambles for balance and getting the suit back up to a decent spot up his hips without falling over. He grew up in a house with a lot of people. The garrison wasn’t all that different and he was one of the first Voltron initiating stints in a crypod, so he’s not sensitive to his body being seen or anything. 

It’s just a body, but he doesn’t go out of his way to give a teammate a full show.

And in his prior experiences, there were definitely more humans in those days whereas curious aliens outweigh the human census here. 

Shiro was a heaven-sent angel saving them from answering all of Coran’s lengthy and deeply personal questions about human anatomy when they first formed the team.

“I’m good, tired and a little out of it, y’know?”

She smiles, tilts her head to allow her prehensile tail to fall over her shoulder - he still can’t believe he kicks it in a weird/good space family way with Lotor’s ex-Galra assassin lady squad, greatest plot redirection ever in his book. 

“The supplies and medic teams all arived safely to their assigned quadrants, they’ll be generating reports and any additional needs as soon as they can. Alteh was on a transmission with a team en route, as soon as the call is done they were going to come up here to check on Lance’s progress, buuut I’ll let them know you’re up.”

“Thanks, I’ll be back out ther-“

“No, you won’t.” She scrunches her nose at Keith, smile wide. “You’d be useless out there with Lance is in here getting the discharge exam. I’ll stall Alteh, give you a chance to finish changing.” The last thing she says to Lance, winking before zipping into nothing, reappearing back at the door to the medbay before turning the corner.

"Aw, how embarrassing, everyone knows you like me.” Lance stands with a bit of renewed strength to work the medsuit the rest of the way down his legs while Keith grabs Lance’s change of clothes.

Keith wraps his hand Lance’s neck, tugging him forward fast to close the distance between them. “You’re ridiculous.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for reading! I would really appreciate it if you told me if you were enjoying the stories or something you liked!
> 
> these [oneshot series](https://echotovalley.tumblr.com/post/615856398583087104/love-bites-so-deep-and-we-got-tiger-teeth-a) are prompts I've picked off of a bunch of different lists that are all sfw, positive, and soft.
> 
> If you want to request something I'd love to write it just hit me up on [tumblr](https://echotovalley.tumblr.com) or drop it here in the comments :)


	3. the great valley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** my cat keeps breaking into your apartment and ate all of your plants so i asked you out for dinner to apologize  
>  **song inspo:** needless to say i keep her in check - she was a bad-bad nevertheless / you’re a sunflower - sunflower // swae lee, post malone  
>  **rating:** general audiences  
>  **word count:** 3,519  
>  **warnings:** some swears  
>  **additional tags:** plant dad!keith, pinning, neighbors au

* * *

"Okay, _now_ would be a great time to come out." Lance gives the bag of dry food another hearty shake and waits. “Luna?” 

Still nothing.

He's not going to panic.

Because she’s clearly just curled up and well-hidden in one of the places he already looked. Or having a really stellar nap where she’s deep in sleep and doesn't hear him announcing breakfast time..

Lance knows she didn’t get out when he came home last night because he fed her. And he distinctly remembers her kneading the blankets on his bed when he laid down, but maybe she got the sneak on him and she slithered right out without him noticing and he’s just remembering a different day.

He's not going to - 

_Knock, knock, knock._

He tosses the food bag onto the table on his way for the door and does a few more sweeps of the living room to make sure she's not just sitting somewhere in plain view, staring at him (like that one time directly in front of the TV). "I swear to god if you learned how to use doorknobs-“

When he flings his door open, having his cat on the other side of the door would have been less weird than who he finds actually standing on his doormat, disgruntled.

 _"Keith?_ Um, hey, dude.”

"I believe this-- ." His downstairs neighbor doesn't mince words, so he doesn’t expect Keith to greet him back and he's got a full scowl going on when he points down at their feet. "-is yours."

Lance glances down just in time to see his missing cat thump her tail against his leg before she darts over the threshold and into the kitchen.

"Luna Blue!" His gasp echoes a little in the hallway and he can feel Keith rolling his eyes but he needs to focus on getting it together.

He's not going to cry. She wasn't even missing a full hour - maybe? he didn't exactly know when she ghosted him after his alarm went off and he got in the shower - and Keith's not exactly the kind to cry in front of. Lance turns back in the doorway and flashes a sheepish smile at his neighbor.

Manners, he has them.

"Thank you for finding her. God, I was losing my mind turning the place apart and shaking her food bag. Was she outside or-"

"In my apartment.” He narrows his eyes and for the briefest moment Lance thinks this is going to be the moment Keith loses patience with the limited interactions they’ve had and lets Lance have it.

"Your...apartment? I’m sorry, I-”

But Keith huffs, turning on his heel, and throws a minimally annoyed, "Goodbye, Lance,” over his shoulder.

* * *

Luna goes missing two more times, once while he's cooking and another time he's in the shower (again). He’s quick to assess she operates on crimes of opportunity. She’ll wait for his guard to go down between jail breaks before busting outta their apartment.

Both times Keith is the one returning her (because she went back to his apartment both times, not because he’s a Good Samaritan that found her wandering the streets or hanging out with the wrong crowd of street cats).

It's still just as stilted and awkward as the first time, but his anxiety compounds. They’ve formed a weird pattern - Keith doesn't respond to any of Lance's jokes - “I’m thinking Thai tonight.” - and he doesn’t offer up any explanation of how Luna’s getting into his place or even what she's _doing_ while she's there.

He knocks, he scowls, he gives Lance those judgey eyes, and leaves the second Luna goes inside. 

As far as Lance knows, Keith doesn't have any pets, if he did Lance is sure he would mention it. It’s a small comfort that Luna isn't starting riots or scrapping with a bearded dragon or an unnecessarily huge dog that he could see Keith owning.

He checks his entire apartment nearly every day for wobbly window panes or loose vent covers and everything checks out. There's no _logical_ way Luna could be sneaking out somewhere, let alone somewhere that would get her safe entry onto an entirely different floor of the building.

"Okay, we need to have a talk."

She doesn't look at him, doesn't miss a beat as she continues grooming her face.

Which is...expected.

"I don't know how you're getting out of the apartment, but that's a big no-no. I know you _know_ that. Next point, maybe breaking and entering into _Keith's_ apartment specifically isn't the wisest choice. If he gets fed up and reports us to the landlord, they may make me get rid of you or kick us out entirely.”

She stops licking her paw to flick her eyes up at him, she twitches her ears and blinks, before going back to work.

Lance can only sigh.

He did pick her out at the shelter because he liked her fight. As a kitten, it was precious because she would wrestle a string of yarn within an inch of its life and try to give all of her toys intimidating looks with her big ol’ eyes, but as a grown ass cat, it's that fight and sass that are going to get him evicted.

Before he leaves her to fix dinner, he gives it one more shot. 

"You’re grounded."

" . . . . . ."

"To this unit _specifically."_

". . . . . ."

* * *

Lance hustles up the stairs, it’s been a week since Luna’s last field trip and he’s gradually left her alone a little bit longer over the last week, but it’s nearing on four hours and he’s sweating it a little bit. He wants to give her the benefit of the doubt - she’s a great cat - but there’s a weird sinking feeling in his stomach that he just can’t ignore.

He’ll unlock the door and open it just enough for himself to get through and he’s going to find her chilling on the couch taking a nap or burrowed under his blankets just vibing, not even bothered by his weird attitude. 

He is in reaching distance of his floor - hand almost on knob - when a door behind him flies open.

"Oh, good. You're home."

He startles and jerks around, leans against the handrail to steady himself. Keith’s voice couldn’t have been any drier and he hasn’t laughed any of the other times Lance has thrown a clever little one-liner his way to lighten the mood, but he’s gotta shoot his shot in the hopes that one day maybe it’ll get Keith to at least smirk noncommittally.

“Hey! I was thinking Chinese takeout for dinner. You want your usual, babe?"

"Hilarious." Keith glares at him, opening his door wider. "Get in here."

 _"Mmmm,_ I'm gonna have to rain check on that. Don't want to get murdered and all." Lance tilts away, moving a step closer to his door. No sudden movements he doesn’t want to trigger-

Meeeerrrrrow.

"Luna?" Lance falls back the rest of the step as a shadow creeps up behind Keith's legs and it's- fuck, it's his cat.

When she tries to walk toward him, Keith kicks his leg up to block her way. He frowns down at her. "Nu-uh. No way. You're going to show him what you did."

Which, okay, Keith chiding Luna is kind of cute.

It's overwhelmed by the circumstances of why it's happening. 

Lance's stomach lurches as he comes back down the stairs and slides sheepishly into Keith's apartment, swooping Luna back into his arms.

They're _so_ evicted.

They're-

_"Woah."_

His grip slips just enough for Luna to take advantage of it, slinking out of his arms and shooting down Keith's hallway (he's distantly aware of Keith groaning his name because of it).

That thing where people get goosebumps from listening to music or being in a museum and finally seeing their favorite artist for the first time, that’s what is taking over his entire body at the moment, he can't even be sure his feet are still on the floor. That feeling becomes half true, one step per pounding beat of his heart and a mess of a rearranged existence in the time his foot lifts off the floor and before it comes back down.

If he thought about what a guy like Keith would be into, it probably would have been something along the lines of vandalism and a cache of spray paint and pocket knives. Bruised knuckles and boxing gloves and all that. Edgy and unyielding and distant and Lance is an _idiot_.

If you're lucky enough to get a unit on a particular side of their apartment building, you get a nice, little cozy terrace. Lance never did anything with his - with Luna and all. He didn’t want to encourage her to want out or accidentally not close the sliding glass door all of the way if he came back in from sitting out on it. 

The family above him, their daughter put up a small tent with a blanket and pillow to read in.

Keith's covered his - vine to metal and back over again - in plants. He recognizes the shape or pattern of some of the vines and leaves, but can't think of their name right off the top of his head. He thinks about the sad succulent he has on the windowsill beside the terrace door that Luna knocks over at least once a week and he's pretty sure (?) is somehow still alive, if only barely. 

There's so many here there's gotta be only enough room for Keith to turn around to water them.

There's so many, they spill into the apartment.

The window beside the door to Keith's terrace is larger than the one Lance has, it's lined with potted plants and a few succulents (happier looking than the one he has, by far). A few larger ones hang peacefully from hooks in the ceiling and he could be wrong, but he thinks he's spots a string of fairy lights wrapped around the hanging chain to one of those big green plants, with tiny bud leaves and the spider-y legs that drip over the edge of its holder.

The beginning set of the sun slants triangles of gold over the walls and plants and the curtains strategically hooked to the sides might as well be glowing.

Keith clears his throat, nudging Lance's shoulder as he steps to the window and breaks the spell. "You'll need to get closer to get the full effect."

He- He's not- Keith didn't have him come into look at his plants. This isn’t a normal, social call because Keith doesn’t _do_ social calls. Lance follows his instruction and scoots in close to look at the vine Keith is holding up to him. This was about-

_"No."_

"Yes."

_Luna._

He's dead and evicted.

Keith is going to turn his body into plant food or reveal he's secretly keeping that man-eating nightmare flower from Jumanji in his entertainment center because of the chaotic line of tiny punctures in the leaves. Disrupted buds that are barely hanging onto their stems with a few sad petals trailing away, mapping a warpath.

"Oh my god. I-"

For his part, Keith is quiet and methodical as he leads Lance from plant to plant and points out the bite marks on each of them. Lance expected a lot more yelling and he's definitely not about to put his guard down because it could come at any second. Keith pins Lance with a look and points up to another potted plant that hangs over the window, not conveniently by the windowsill or furniture, but there's a smudged paw print on the ceramic. An empty vine hangs awkwardly away from the rest and when Lance looks down, yep, there's a pile of crushed leaves at his feet.

"How did she even get up _there?! "_

His cat deadass clamped her dumb mouth over one vine in particular and shredded it like a kabob.

"Please tell me there's not more."

In answer, Keith pops his terrance door open and gestures onto the patio.

"You're going to murder me."

He knows the sigh he gets from Keith is coming before all of the words even leave his mouth. "I'm not going to murder you, Lance."

And what choice does he have? He's kind of socially obligated to see the full extent of the damage Luna has caused. It's tripping him up a little, being in this small nook of green and fresh air and warm sun that all works to put him at ease, but actually being out here for something that's a pretty big bummer.

"I don't know where she's getting out in your place, but she has to be using the fire escape."

"Why would she do that? _How_ would she do that, the biggest adventuring she's done at my place is climb on top of the fridge and even then she cries until I get her back down."

"She calculates."

"Okay, fine. I’ll go with it - she’s figured out how to use the fire escape. Then what? How'd she get in _here?"_

Keith steps to the side of the doorway to duck toward the edge of the window, wiggling his hand through a hole in the window screen. "Here. I don't know if she made it or if it was already here, though. I've never _heard_ her getting in here, so I think it's more likely it was already here.”

"Well, it would be irresponsible to give her a proper breaking-and-entering kit." Lance flinches when Keith presses his mouth into a firm line, raising his eyebrows. "Right, not funny now. So...what do I need to do to make it better? I can replace some of your plants, like maybe one or two at a time depending on how much they cost. I'm not trying to like bribe you or anything. She did a really shitty thing and she's my responsibility and if you complained to the landlord, that would be....understandable. I-"

"Lance." Keith ticks his head into his apartment. "Get in here before someone hears you rambling and actually thinks I'm going to push you off the terrace."

"Right, yeah. I just-" He takes a deep breath and waits until Keith shuts the door and faces Lance again. "My roommate recently moved into a bigger place with his girlfriend and we'd been roommates for several years - we went together to get Luna from the shelter, so he was the second significant person in her life and they loved each other so much. They had a special bond. I almost got jealous a few times. Sorry, that sounds ridiculous." Lance scratches the back of his head nervously, but when he looks up at Keith, he's just waiting.

No eye rolling or smirking or scoffing, he's waiting for Lance to finish what he was saying.

"But since he moved out, she's left for longer periods of time alone when I'm in class or at work. It's been a big change for the both of us and I started to notice a few quirks in her temperament but nothing destructive. Her eating schedule got a little weird and I figured that was part of the reason. I guess she's having a harder time adjusting than I thought and she's acting out."

"I'm not going to report you."

"You're not?"

"As much of a wreck this is," Keith laughs under his breath, gesturing to the plants and yeah, Lance is just noticing there's soil dug out and tracked around the area which makes sense with the smudged paw print. "No. I don't want the super to change the pet policy just because your insane cat is having her rebellious teen phase. I'm pretty sure if I brought it up they would also question why I have so many plants to begin with or tell me it's a fire hazard. 

“Besides, I work at a nursery, some of these are just foster plants I bring home to give them extra care they need between closing and opening shifts. Thankfully your cat doesn't go immediately in for the kill, none of the plants were completely destroyed and beyond care.”

 _"Hoo,_ that's good to hear." Lance tips back on his feet, swiping his palms against the front of his jeans. "Any chance I can buy you dinner or something then? Again, not like a bribe or anything, strictly as an apology and thank you. We don't even have to eat together. I can just pay for your food.”

Keith huffs - and there's that eye roll that's not so sharp, not so threatening now that Lance knows edgy Keith loves plants and likes his cat at least enough not to have the super come knocking on Lance's door. He pulls the hair tie out of his hair and holds it in his mouth as he gathers his hair back up higher off of his neck. It's-

The room is gold and green and Keith is standing in front of a window filled with light and someone tying their hair back shouldn't look as goddamn poetic but-

 _"Jeezis."_ Hair tie out of Keith's mouth now and winding around his hair. "Yes, you can buy me food. We can go to that pizza place on Washington. Tomorrow after 7, is that okay?"

Lance's favorite pizza place of all time? Uh, hell yeah.

"Sounds good. So I guess I'm just going to-"

This went so well. Nobody's murdered or evicted and he's just going to duck out before he says something to ruin it.

"Lance."

He swears his hand is millimeters from the doorknob when Keith stops him.

"Yeah?"

_Don't ruin it. Don't ruin it. Don't ruin it._

"Your cat."

"Right. Right, yeah. Should probably get that." 

Except he doesn't move a muscle because Keith doesn't strike him as the kind guy to appreciate someone waltzing into the depths of his place where Luna shot off to. Especially when structural damage comes into place.

Keith looks him up and down for a considerable amount of time before it must finally click that Lance isn’t going to go get Luna and that he'll have to get her for him.

* * *

Dinner turns to be on one of the busiest nights, but it’s when they were both free. Surprisingly, Keith doesn’t seem all that bothered with it. They have to duck out of the way of a few kids with their plates piled with pizza and there’s a close call with a waitress holding a tray full of drinks, but Keith doesn’t glare or make snide remarks.

It’s starting to be enough that Lance is going to have to do a considerable amount of reassessment with his list of Known Keith Attributes.

And that’s before they get their plates. Keith keeps the conversation going and Lance does his part of continuing and starting his own, but he’s a little nervous. Sure, he’s not on Keith’s nerves now, but if he talks _too much._

Except-

It flows and flows and flows and eventually, they can’t possibly eat another bite. It feels nice.

It stays nice out to the parking lot and Lance’s car and the whole ride back to their building, even though the conversation fell away a good ten minutes ago. He likes hanging out with Keith, even better he likes the confirmation that Keith doesn’t hate Luna.

It’s all a nice high Lance gets to coast on. 

When they get to the door and their footsteps echo off of the tile in the hallway, it suddenly ebbs off its swell.

The tide rolls back out as they walk up to Keith's door and Lance forgets the ease of the evening for a beat too long and how everything fell into place once he got out of his head. He comes crashing back into himself at record breaking speed when Keith fishes out his keys.

There's - should he wait until Keith gets the door open?

The unease of uncharted territory creeps up on him. He feels like he finally got a good leg up with Keith and he really doesn’t want to ruin it. He flounders on the next step up, bounces up on the balls of his feet and bites his lip because he should, there's definitely something he can say here.

"Uh, thanks."

"Hm?" 

Keith's door is open and he already has one foot in when Lance chances a glance back at him. "Thanks again, for not reporting us."

"Yeah." Keith throws a smile over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. "Goodnight, Lance."

Just like that, the door clicks shut quietly behind Keith and Lance is alone in the hallway. He feels like he's forgotten something or he should have said something else. It's a faint tickle at the back of his head that Lance can't make heads or tails of, which one it is -

It...This kind of feels like a date, how you would end one. Was-

Wait.

_That wasn't a date, right?_

_R i g h t?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cats, man. Thank you again, for checking out this story and reading. I hope it's been good and has made you feel even the tiniest bit better.
> 
> [tumblr](echotovalley.tumblr.com)


	4. breathing fire in your sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** post-canon established klance doing long distance while keith’s away on a humanitarian mission across the galaxy and lance misses him.  
>  **rating:** general audiences  
>  **word count:** 3,019  
>  **warnings:** some swears  
>  **additional tags:** post-canon (but I do what I want), hurt/comfort, fluff, reunions, healing, background adashi if you squint, smitten Keith, smitten Lance, mutual admiration
> 
> requested by youryodastilesis - thank you again for the request! I hope this fits the bill :)

* * *

Keith barely has time to completely sit down before the screens in the comm room light up, washing the room in a gently, pulsing glow. A fond smile curls at his mouth as he accepts the transmission and Lance’s face appears on one of the medium sized screens.

“Have you guys made it to Cinia yet?”

“We’re still about 7 quintants out from touching down, some of the area out here is uncharted and we’re getting feed back on the scanners of shifts in gravitational pull. Nothing too crazy, just a few planets out of place.”

“You could just say a week, you know.”

 _“That’s_ all you got out of what I said?”

“It’s just me, no aliens. Well, you’re half alien, but English was your first language and you didn’t know you were a dash of Galra until well out of your developmental stage.”

“Coran’s been talking to you about linguistics again, hasn’t he?”

“It was relevant to the task at hand.”

They slip into their familiar pattern easily, so seamless Keith could almost forget he was so far out from New Altea. That Lance was just a small star system and a planet away and he could be at his side in ticks.

“How’s learning Altean going? Hi, by the way.”

“There’s - oh yeah, hey - a few differences between the Altean Coran and Allura speak to the Altean Romelle grew up with. They’ve got a team of linguists bridging the gaps and recording the origins. It’s nothing outrageously complicated, just the way some phrases evolved and a little twist on syntax here and there. Apparently, one of Coran’s favorite words hasn’t been in circulation for a thousand years, give or take. So, it’s a complete and utter travesty. You’re not going to believe me, but the split group of Alteans have said even weirder things than Coran has.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe you.”

Lance leans back in a chair and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “To answer your question though, it’s going better than I thought. There are no holo-bears trying to kill me if I get a word wrong.”

He’s good with languages in a way that kind of sweeps Keith off of his feet anytime he’s by Lance conversing with someone in their language or even just listening to learn. Anytime Keith has brought it up in the past, Lance’s cheeks and the tops of his ears blush.

“That’s always a plus. I’m sure you’re doing great.”

“Allura’s a phenomenal teacher.”

“How has she been doing?”

“Better. You know, it took her a little bit to get up to New Altea. I almost expected we would have to tie her to a chair to get her to rest after the final battle. You know after the war, she refused to take any position of power and that’s still definitely a thing. She’s been taking the time to meet the Alteans while Coran and Romelle work on rebuilding infrastructures over the last year and a half.

“They want Allura on the council they’re working on forming and the Alteans seem to agree, but she’s taking her time. They all call her Princess and she gets insanely blushy when she tries to remind them they can call her Allura. Those marks under her eyes glow and it’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Whatever she does, Allura will be great.”

“Oh, Shiro and Adam are coming up in two weeks.”

“Yeah, Shiro got a hold of me before we got too far out from Earth to get a message through. It should be fun for guys. Just don’t get landed in any New Altean jail cells, I’m a little out of the way if anyone needs bail money.”

“That means all we’re missing is you, Red.”

“Better hope Hunk and Pidge don’t hear that.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Lance-“

“How long did you say the mission was going to be.”

“Just under a pheob, “ Keith sighs, “Between the time it takes to get there, unload everything, and the way back. It could be longer, depending on the planet’s conditions and how soon we can work on getting the communication tower up and running. And you know we’ll stay over if the Cinians need us.”

Lance deflates in his chair, tipping his head back to look up at a ceiling out of frame. “A month.”

“C’mon, it’s not going to be that bad. The time will pass faster than you think - you’ve got an entire planet to charm and you get to do it hanging out with Allura. You get to ask Shiro about embarrassing stories about me without me cutting into it. This is exactly Lance McClain’s brand of fun.”

Keith catches the shift in pixels, Lance swallowing and his jaw tensing.

“Lance, we’ve barely been apart since…well, _y’know.”_ \- A year plus and the word war on their tongues still fits awkward in their mouths. A year is a long time. Long enough to be with someone to make important decisions about important feelings. “It’s a month, I’ve been gone longer before.”

“Except this time, you’re the farthest away you’ve been on a relief effort I’m not apart of. Keith, all of the other times, you’ve been within a reasonable distance. If something happened I could steal a pod or throw myself into a lion’s cockpit and get to you in record breaking time.”

“If you’re worried about us going into a possible hostile enviroment, there’s enough of us here we can take care of it. We have supplies, medical staff, and before we lifted off, all of the cryopods were up to code. We’ve taken all the precautions we can to gauge the climate of the planet and the surrounding systems.”

Lance must have his tablet propped up a on table because the screen shifts and shakes a little when he places his arms in front of him and leans against them. His eyes noticeably sweep away from the camera and to a time and place that isn’t there anymore.

“The last time you went so far - we were instructed to cut contact, you were gone for two years, and we didn’t even know it. It feels like you coming back to your original timeline, was all chance nobody could do anything about.”

“You’re worried we’ll trip over another space whale?”

“It doesn’t have to be a space whale, it could just be a random pocket of stars that plucks you clean out of the atmosphere. I don’t want to lose more time with you, especially not now. The idea that it could happen in a blink of an eye and what’s five minutes of no updates from your ship to us is an entire lifetime for you. Maybe you’ll come back, maybe you won’t.

“You found your mom and I would never wish that away from you, but I do wish it had been different. We weren’t even together when you left - you and I were still sussing out our evolving dynamic but still trying to keep things the same because it was something familiar for us to hang onto while fighting an intergalactic war. So, when you came back, I felt like I was a million lightyears away from you.”

Lance scoffs at himself and rubs a hand down over his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. It isn’t fair. I just, I love you _so much_ and I want to be there with you an ungodly amount of the time. I know it’s not that serious. You’re literally delivering food, water, and medical aid to displaced galaxies and I’m here throwing a pity party about not seeing you for a few weeks.”

“Hey.” Keith sits forward in his chair, realizing too late that he had raised his arm out in front of him. “It takes time to deal with all of this stuff constructively and at a pace that helps you, not one that gives you more anxiety to cycle through it as fast as possible. Do you remember telling me that?

“Because I thought you loved to hear yourself talk." The tiny barb, the ghost of their old ways that once were sharp and needling to a banter of comfort, gets a small chuckle out of Lance. "I love you.”

“I don’t love hearing myself talk _that_ much. I love you too.”

“You already said that.”

“Really?” There’s the promise of a new spark in Lance’s eyes as he looks Keith up and down through the screen.

“Yeah.”

“Oh well, I love you.” Lance shakes his head at himself with a fond smile and Keith feels a small victory for it. “So, just go easy on your stupidly clingy boyfriend when he asks for more updates than necessary and sends you a bunch of texts back-to-back.”

“I will. He’ll need to try to remember that there’s nothing that could stop me from getting back to him and their family.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the memo.”

There’s a rhythmic beeping coming from a smaller comms button, Zethrid’s face appearing over the screen. “Zethrid’s trying to call in, we’re supposed to go over a mock first meeting with the planet’s leaders to discuss and plan out meeting Cinia’s needs and breaking down of the blueprints for the comms tower. We're doing a run through with the translators too.”

“I love a man that takes his charity work seriously. It’s super attractive, you know.”

Keith rolls his eyes fondly. “Hey, when Shiro and Adam get to New Altea, hang around Adam as much as you can, he’s really good at roasting Shiro and I want reinactments and notes on stuff I can reuse in the future.”

“I’l make sure to pass it on to the secretary, samurai.”

* * *

Time isn’t something that can be cheated.

In space, it breaks rules and writes new ones - sometimes those rules can be neat and poetic, others it is chaotic and jagged.

It is unapologetically nuanced.

In the Quantum Abyss, he saw his past, held and loved so fiercely by a woman he almost thought never even existed when he was being moved between group homes. But it also saw things that hadn’t happened yet. Teasing glimpses of possible futures or the alternate, possible ones of different choices. They tangled thickly in his head like cobwebs and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t tell anyone outside of the Abyss but Shiro.

His mother had been there, he wasn’t riding out of the waves of maybes alone.

Some of the images of his maybe futures left him breathless and for once, his future seemed rich.

It gave him a new kind of hunger in the pit of stomach, scraping out a burrow in his heart.

Timelines are delicate.

Time is unapologetically nuanced - it gives and it takes and controls the scores.

Thinking back to the end of the war, it was crushing how heavy it laid its hands on the shoulders of children.

In a year, they grew stronger to stand taller despite the looming threat of time. And despite it all, they shoved one hand of time off of their shoulders and defied the odds.

They said to time, they would not live in fear anymore. They would respect time and give it its just reverence, but they would also be in charge of their own lives.

Time could also heal and bring new life.

So, they would chart the universe and their lifetime in partnership.

And if it took more than was justly given, Keith knew if there was anyone that would span the galaxy and fight the odds and time itself, it was a boy from Cuba with stars in his eyes and the ocean under his skin named Lance McClain.

The Blue Paladin that became his right hand, first string, and end game.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

But a month turned into two months, so Keith knows he’s going to get a little of the fight Lance would have given time.

He makes it all of the way down into the hangar, the familiar pull of gravity settling on his soles. It’s infinitely comforting to have his boots on solid ground after quintants traversing neverending space so far above as below. The hangar is full of people to inspect the ship, leaving the hangar, running diagnostics, and meeting up with their family and friends.

It’s a zigzag pattern of welcome and congratulations that seems to take over the whole space, giving him sight of the floor five feet ahead of him, and that’s a generous estimate. He tries not to let his eyes rest on anyone inparticular, doesn’t want to infringe on their reunion, of a moment only meant for them.

He thought for sure he’d be caught before he was even halfway down the ramp, but there are a lot of people here and they landed a little earlier than projected, so maybe Lance just isn’t he-

_“Keith!”_

And _there_ he is. A wave of relief washes over him as Lance politely slips between people and cargo like it’s nothing - it almost should be, with those long legs. The smile that breaks across Keith’s face is wild and free when Lance finally breaks through the line of people, allowing Keith to throw his arms around him.

Lance wraps his arms tight around Keith, lifts just enough to lift Keith’s feet off of the floor in a bear hug that might match Hunk’s. Almost immediately, he tucks his face into Keith’s neck and breathes in.

 _“There_ you are, Red.”

Oh.

_Oh._

He-

_“Lance.”_

(He’ll die before he admits it out loud, but he likes the sound of Lance’s name in his own voice, likes the way it makes itself at home on his tongue and crests like a lulling wave.)

Keith’s heart couldn’t possibly beat any harder and Lance absolutely must feel it against his own chest.

This boy he has grown with, fought back-to-back with, the lanky arms and legs becoming strong and sure with the ocean beating just under his skin and the stars in his eyes reflecting back the light they see in Keith’s, he loves. So much.

Doesn’t know what to do with himself half of the time because of it.

He remembers cornering Shiro six, maybe seven months ago and throwing his arms out wide, demanding, _“Why didn’t you tell me it was like this!”_

Lance shifts his arms, presses his warm palm to the small of Keith’s back while his other hands travels up Keith’s spine to casually brush his fingers through the ends of Keith’s hair.

Their hearts run together.

All he wants to do in that moment is drag Lance to their room and work the tops of their suits down until Keith can lay his bare palm against Lance’s chest, to feel his heartbeat and convince himself it’s real, Lance is there, Keith is there, and they’re together and time (for the most part) fucked off _for_ _once._

So effortlessly, like he’s been doing it for ages, Lance presses his mouth for a moment against the top of his forehead, pressing Keith’s bangs down to ghost over his nose. “I can’t believe I missed the chance by _four quiznaking vargas_ to sneak onto the additional relief team dispatched when you hailed for more supplies.”

He takes a steady breath, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. “I’m sorry the time for departure got mixed up. If it makes you feel any better, it was mutual. I kind of hoped, I mean, I _wanted_ you to be on that ship too.”

There was once a time of Lance and Keith, neck-and-neck, when Keith never would have freely admitted that.

Lance’s arms draw around Keith a little tighter.

“I didn’t expect you to though, you were on New Altea and doing your thing. Congratulations on being named an Earth Ambassador, by the way.”

“I mean, United Nations has been done before and you know me, I’m an overachiever. United Galaxies is where it’s at - official names still being considered. Stepping off of the ship as your knight-in-shining armor would have been extremely cool and you would have gone crazy with how good I looked.”

Keith laughs into the cool hollow of Lance’s throat, shaking his head. “Always the theatrics with you.”

“Besides, now I can say things to make you blush in _three_ languages thanks to the Altean lessons.”

“You’re-“

Whatever Keith plans to answer with, he doesn’t get the chance. Lance ducks forward to kiss him quickly and it makes Keith’s head spin a little. He tenderly tilts Keith’s head back for a better angle and it hits Keith how much he’s missed this. How much he’s missed just being in the general vicinity of Lance.

Catching some of the light coming off of him.

When Lance doesn’t pull away, the length of it borders on ridiculous. There’s a hangar full of people moving around them mixed with a handful of teammates they’ve both commanded at some point. They will undoubtedly be teased. Keith’s a little surprised that none of their rowdier members, the ones that get along with them like a house on fire, haven’t obnoxiously catcalled or heckled them.

The kiss breaks with Keith’s laughter instead.

“You’re so _sappy.”_

Lance hums an affirmation into the corner of his jaw, it sends a shiver down Keith’s spine as he tries to squirm away. It’s a place on his skin he would bet Lance knows the best. Could map out at an entire universe just in the small place right below his ear.

And he _knows_ Keith is a little ticklish there.

They’ll talk later. They’ll slowly pull back the invisible bandages winding up their arms and legs for the other to see and keep moving forward. Every bump in the road to get to here, they’ve managed and bested.

Time will get them one day - turn their hair gray and make their hands wrinkled - but it won’t have today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry, kosmo chilled with krolia during their trips and they get very engaged shortly after this.
> 
> also just gonna shamelessly plug another one of my stories that's canon-compliant klance wholesome space shenanigans [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16480871)
> 
> [tumblr](https://echotovalley.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** you invited me to your brother’s/sister’s wedding as a plus one bc we’re hella best friends but we end up making out at the afterparty  
>  **rating:** general audiences  
>  **word count:** 1,412  
>  **warnings:** none  
>  **additional tags:** background veracxa, two dudes dancing at a wedding zero feet apart because they’re-!
> 
>  **song inspo:** see the thing you've been chasin', honey - you'll never find it wearing a life-vest // aquaman by walk the moon

* * *

"You had fun."

The last song is just fading out, it's a little delayed, but Keith has the presence of mind to take a step back from Lance as a few of the lights come back on to get everyone's attention, those that were dancing around them starting to disperse.

It's time for them to get their sparklers to hold them over the newlyweds as they walk out of the reception hall.

He knows this bit, knows how he's supposed to follow up with, "Wow, you know I think you're right. I don't think I've had it before."

Because if Keith focuses too much on the pressure of Lance's hand at the small of his back, he's going to lose track of where they are - where he and Lance are supposed to _stay_ \- it's going to be embarrassing. 

"I told Veronica it was a weak move to say if I brought you as a plus one, we had to dance.”

“I think that may have been solely directed at you, Lance, but she seriously underestimated our willingness to rise to the challenge."

Lance's mom calls to him from across the room about grabbing his suit jacket and rounding up the rest of his siblings for one last picture with Veronica before she left for the honeymoon, but his focus is on Keith the entire time. He doesn't miss a beat of their game, only stops once to let his mom know he heard her and he's getting a move on.

He moves slowly, pausing to silently encourage Keith to keep following him rather than head in the direction of the other wedding guests. It's a very _Lance_ thing but-

 _"And_ you didn't embarrass me."

Lance practically, honest-to-god, _squawks._ "I'm a great dancer!”

Keith smiles, wicked and bright because he came ahead on this one. He ticks his head toward the group of guests filing out of the front doors. "Go on. We'll catch up out there."

The sparkler arch went off without a hitch as Veronica and Acxa crowd in the car to leave. 

Most of the crowd is still milling about and talking when Keith wanders back into the reception hall. It feels a little like he was supposed to hang back with Lance, but he was talking with his extended family members and Shiro raised Keith to be a helper.

And it’s a nice distraction when one of Lance’s aunts comes to his side, pressing her hand lightly at his arm. 

“Keith, can you please take the photos from the table over there and put them in this box.”

Yes, absolutely.

His hands and head need to be busy.

“Of course, ” is the calmer response he gives and heads for the memorial table with a box beside it.

Keith unplugs the fairy lights and starts to wind up the cord, unwrapping it from around picture frames and those small white-washed signs with calligraphy - the word _familia_ in looping script. 

“I was wondering where you ran off to.” Lance’s hand brushes the small of Keith’s back and he tries to focus on neatly packing the cord away into the box.

“I had idle hands available.”

It gets a laugh out of Lance and he falls in line next to Keith, packing away the decorations and carefully placing the picture frames into the box. Keith picks it up just as Lance places the last picture in, that sneaky hand from before brushing down Keith’s forearm.

“You know I think you’re actually one of the funnest guys, right?”

“What? I- yeah. Yeah, I know you know we have a good time together.” What he would do for a free hand to brush through his bangs, make sure they’re securely over his eyes and throwing shadows over the high points of his cheeks where a blush would be right now.

“Hey.”

There’s a certain way a person can say _hey_ in the middle of a conversation. Keith knows what it sounds like, would like to think he knows how a particular hey will sound in _Lance’s_ voice. When he looks up, no matter what kind of hey it is, his mind has already betrayed him to what it hopes it will lead to.

The moment Keith looks up -

Lance presses his mouth to his, there’s no build-up or tell-tale staring at the other’s mouth where the only thing he can hear is his own heartbeat because it all works itself as an extension of their conversation instead, their task to pack up keepsakes. Like it’s something they just do. 

Liking picking up the much-loved, worn picture frame that holds the portrait of Lance’s grandparents in Lance’s hand always precedes him slotting hip mouth gently against Keith’s - an order of operations.

There’s no brainstorming or planning, it simply happens and when it does, they can’t stop.

They both move to face each other better, where it’s less over Keith’s shoulder. 

It takes two of Keith’s heartbeats for them to shift to a manageable angle.

Three heartbeats when Lance is moving closer and Keith’s mouth drops open - not even a full beat before Lance is swiping his tongue against Keith’s bottom lip. It’s tentative, careful and so unpresumptuous Keith expects him to snap back to apologize.

But he…he doesn’t want Lance to pull away or apologize.

So Keith doesn’t give Lance time to consider either of them - just in case he seriously was - and meets him half way. He lets out a shakey breath through his nose to hide the noise that works its way from his throat when that hesitancy vanishes and they’re slowly building a rhythm. Lance’s hand reaching out, searching for that anchor when he finally catches Keith by the hip. Without the music and the number of people considerably smaller and farther away, it’s quieter. Keith can hear every hitch of breath between them. The sound of them kissing blasts and echoes like gunfire in his ears. It isn’t hurried, they’re not in any hurry. 

Keith’s head spins anyways.

His pulse is crashing like hide tide.

He has to get his arms around Lance to hang onto, before he’s swept away or drops their rhythm.

They could get caught. It-

_“Tío!”_

Keith reels from the hard pull away, fumbling and wavering, scrambling with the box still very much in his hands full of _precious family heirlooms._ Lance recovers faster, gently sets the frame in his hand into the box and turns away from Keith to catch Sylvio in one arm, hanging him almost upside down over his shoulder and scooping Nadia up by her waist with the other.

“Can we spend the night with you in your hotel room? _Pleeeeeeease!”_

“I’m sharing a room with Keith, remember? Besides, you two hog the bed.” Lance skips, jostling his neice and nephew just enough to have them split into a peal of laughter. “My final counter argument: I heard your Mamí say no when you asked her the same thing earlier. You’re gonna have to work harder if you want to pull one over on me, I perfected that move.”

“We won’t hog the bed, I promise!”

“Mamí will say yes if you say it’s okay!”

They fall into a tangle of Spanish, far enough way that Keith can’t make it out between peels of laughter and the hammering still going on in his ears.

They’re at a wedding and Lance wouldn’t leave Keith alone until he danced two slow dances with him - they actually danced almost all of them. The only time they were really far from the other were the times Keith took a break and Lance tooks turns dancing with his family members.

They’re closer than they’ve been before and Lance is a physically affectionate guy, a self-professed stumbling romantic that could make burnt toast a symbol of undying love. Keith might not be _there_ , maybe not yet? But it’s- 

They’re at a wedding that was gorgeous and they just got caught up in the emotions of it. They’ve both been single _for a minute_ and they’re very mutually single.

Which, huh.

Not an everyday occurrence.

Hasn’t actually happened before in the time they’ve known each other.

Keith doesn’t catch himself in time, doesn’t correct the trajectory because he still feels millions of miles away from his body - far in the orbit of the stars. It feels like he’s silly and 15 again, skin still buzzing, to touch his mouth.


	6. tide & storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** learning not to think and act in a mess of ticks and seconds hours and quintants, takes time, but Lance wouldn’t trade it for the world.  
>  **artist/song inspo:** slipfunc  
>  **rating:** t  
>  **word count:** 1,479  
>  **additional tags:** fluff, comfort, post-series canon universe, boy - they are in love  
>  **warnings:** none!
> 
> If you're also reading the safest sounds oneshots collection, you'll be seeing double. This is the first time I'm giving this a shot, but the story in its entirety is there. This edition is sfw prompts, the story there cuts off before the spice in the full version.

* * *

“When’s the last time you sat down not in a meeting?”

It’s a light jab, the stepping stones of his grander plans.

It’s also a start - he’s so glad Keith let him braid his hair back today because he’s got a front row view of the small smile that breaks like an easy wave over Keith’s face.

Even as he’s struggling to get the rest of his armor and uniform down his legs, hopping on one foot to yank it off and toss in the general direction of a chair as he reaches for his sleep pants, he’s one of the most beautiful things Lance has ever seen. Rigid angles of his body not making it all the way up to his face, where there’s no scrunch between his eyebrows or downturn at his mouth. It melts and eases into soft, happy angles.

And Lance did _that._

He swallows, shakes the butterflies back down out of his chest.

Happy or not, Keith’s jawline _isn’t_ going anywhere and that’s a whole ‘nother thing Lance is very, _very_ appreciative of. He thinks about all of the times Keith let him lightly trace his scar that stretches out to his cheek.

“Dinner, you were there, remember? It was 45 minutes ago. And, in my defense, I had planned on sitting for lunch - the ship’s diagnostic system had other plans. So, I spent that eating bites between being elbow deep in tech and code. You were also there for that one as well.”

Keith’s smile disappears behind the worn cotton of a t-shirt for a brief moment, so Lance gets the opportunity to look. Sweep his eyes down so gentle and quick Keith won’t notice. Won’t feel his gaze any different than the shirt settling over his shoulders and falling over the hard plains of his stomach.

Lance rolls his eyes when he makes his way back up to Keith’s hair - the man has zero finesse when it comes to changing clothes, disheveling Lance’s work in matter of seconds. Wisps of hair pull out of the neat plait and others fall back around his face. Changing clothes like it takes a personal fight to get a t-shirt over your head shouldn’t work as well as it does.

But Keith’s eyes make it.

The thick section of bangs still in the process of growing out falling back over them, shadowing them a little.

But there’s still a spark that lights them up and reaches out past the wild mane of hair to play Lance’s heartstrings like a pro.

“Hey.” Lance stretches his arm out, reaches his fingers as far as they’ll go as he holds his hand out for Keith.

Just like the tide, he crests into Lance’s space and takes that hand, lets it tug him closer and closer until Lance’s nose is almost to Keith’s middle where he sits on the bed.

“You know what would be a great idea?”

Keith’s hair looks even wilder close up, but those eyes track his with no problem. Catch and keep as he ducks forward and kisses Lance, taking him by surprise.

Thankfully, no matter what his brain’s doing - short circuiting a bit at the warm mouth pressed with so much care close against his, if he’s being honest - everything else is instant muscle memory. Lance wraps his arms around Keith’s waist, stretches his leg out to catch his foot right behind Keith’s. Enough to keep him where he wants him, but not enough to knock him off balance. A move that took some time to learn and perfect - days and nights and moons and complete star systems that stretched out like a map as the places Keith touched on his skin.

All of his senses light up when Keith cradles his hand around his neck and brushes his thumb through Lance’s hair.

Lance has had just as much time to learn Keith as he had Lance, just enough time to know how to make his way back on the way of a conversation when the path was fuzzy in the distance with Keith’s fingers running his fingers through Lance’s hair.

“No meetings. No more malfunctions.” Lance’s eyes fall back open in time to see the affectionate roll of Keith’s eyes.

“You jinx it, you’re on pod cleaning duty or whatever next grubby job I can find for the remainder of the trip, McClain.”

“Mm.” Lance squeezes his arms around Keith’s waist, getting him to hunch over so Lance can kiss him once, quick. “You’re not the boss of me.”

Keith leans in his hold, gets the right angle to feign nipping at the sensitive spot on Lance’s jaw. _“General,_ remember?”

Yes, okay. With that, Lance is all but drop kicked back into his path - the original intent to all of the buildup. He smirks as one of his hands snakes away from Keith’s waist, hand dropping low enough on his hip to get the point across but still soft, still classy.

Keith doesn’t say anything, but Lance isn’t putting out bait for more snark or banter. His eyebrows raise a little, the corner of his mouth tipping up as Lance scoots farther back on the bed and uses his hold on Keith to turn him around. He keeps his hands on Keith, guiding him back and down to the space between his legs.

It sends a rush through his veins.

Everyone’s still fully clothed and he’s just leaning forward around Keith, hooking his chin over the shoulder of a worn cotton t-shirt. It’s something they’ve done a thousand times before. Something not even remotely close to the more uninhibited things they’ve done before. Keith is the tide and the tide can pull. Can ease you out in a lulling motion and before you know it, your feet are barely brushing the sand underneath you. Or it can be quick, all encompassing on the tail-end of a storm or just before it.

They’re both kind of storms in their own way.

Keith would argue Lance was absolutely the tide - wide and open and blue like the ocean, holding a depthless world in him - and he was the storm. All electricity and lightning and rushing winds. Difficult to still on a good day.

Lance’s eyes drift close as Keith settles in the space, a breath rolling through him as he melts back into Lance. Lance’s arm winds back around him, but makes a point to palm at the just of his hip. Tilts his head enough to start pressing kisses up Keith’s neck, ghosts the hint of teeth over the sensitive places on his skin.

Payback for earlier.

This close, Keith has no chance of hiding the shudder that works it’s way down from his shoulders and spine.

Lance gets his free hand between them, low on the small of Keith’s back and starts to work at the muscle there. He moves over what he can get to between them, not willing to adjust to reach better because he’s waited all day - since the moment they got out of bed this morning - to get back to here. An unbroken line where there’s no telling where one of them ends and the other begins.

The messed up braid and loose strands of hair are distracting, tickle Lance’s nose in a way to threaten the very smooth vibe he’s setting the stage with. And he plans on steering straight ahead until Keith’s comfortingly pliant and relaxed in his arms when he works out a particularly stubborn not of muscle to the left of Keith’s spine.

Because Lance is feeling a little less than humble than when he was earlier - wrapped up in the tiny bubble of space that’s only them, only _for_ them and watching a universe hero, a general, stumble out of his clothes - he nips with a little more pressure. Teases the spot with an open-mouthed kiss until it works a noise from the back of Keith’s throat and his hand is falling over Lance’s on his hip.

He soothes the spot he’s been working over with a chaste kiss, stays close to the crook between Keith’s neck and shoulder. “This okay?”

“Kind of obvious,” Keith huffs it. He raises his arm, stretches it back until his hand gets to the back of Lance’s head, threading nimble fingers through his hair. Switches to dragging blunt nails carefully over Lance’s scalp, to win his own noise from Lance. To pin the shudder that works it’s way down Lance’s back just like Lance had done to him. “Very okay.”

Lance nods slowly, turns more of his face into Keith’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

All of the connected points between them are its own galaxy, planets and gravitational pull, and when Keith laces his fingers with Lance’s - a tangle of stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> Originally, I had a big, long note here - but anyways, I'm considering taking down my stories.


	7. saturn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** the very rough idea/outline I had for the honeymoon (around the world) klance zine if I had been accepted. I have to put the energy this story was building somewhere, I don’t have the vacancy in my head or heart for it to stay.  
>  **additional tags:** post-canon, Lance joins the BOM relief missions, and Allura and Adam live. (for personal interest and developing timeline of keith & lance’s relationship a//urance didn’t happen), ***they don’t actually go to saturn, fluff, LOVE™  
>  **rating:** general audiences, sfw

Falling in love can be easy, but for Keith and Lance - separately or together - few things often are (at first). If there’s anything they’ve come to be known for it’s that they’re - separately or together - comfortable being self-sacrificing and that doesn’t exclude realizing - _Oh._

It’s a slow burn like a dying star, bright and obvious, but it’s time frame can’t be pinned down. It may have already happened millions of lightyears ago. They’re older, more mature, more confident in the stride of their steps and how armor fits to their shoulders, so admitting to themselves that what they feel is all-encompassing, hums against their ribcages and burns pleasantly in their chest. But they won’t say it - won’t admit it to each other when it’s so clear to everyone else. They would do anything to keep their friendship where it stands, to do what would make it grow. Confessions and feelings could drown and choke, smother what they had right into the dust.

Until one day, like was bound to happen to so many before them and after them, it spills over. It’s too much to hold, sloshes over the edges on a day when a relief mission goes a little rocky and these boys still growing into men can’t hold back any longer. Their surroundings, the day of the week, the shirt they’re wearing (they’re in uniform, it’s Galra shoulder pads day) click back into place. The hands that are strong, fingers that are resolute from honing battle and survival skills, callouses marring the smooth skin of their youth that feels like a decade ago, hold onto each other with the greatest care, heartbreakingly gentle.

They both think that if they loosen their grip even the smallest bit, the world will split between them and tear everything away again.

They touch without enough force to bruise or leave any marks.

For the other is the most precious thing in the universe that has seen and felt too much harshness.

Even as the world focuses back in around them, as the atmosphere with the faint after-taste on the planet they’re on settles back in their chests and catches in their throats - they don’t let go.

Even as they slowly pull away - just far enough to look each other in the eyes, close enough still to count the other’s eyelashes - the fumbling youth that would have had them pushing each other away, denying loudly enough for entire galaxies to hear them, doesn’t come.

And it doesn’t come.

And that’s really the start where they had no chance of stopping, isn’t it?

Lance playfully pulls Keith in to kiss him, distracting him from the data pad in his hand. Kisses him once, twice, three times before Keith is smiling against his mouth and huffing against the smooth skin of Lance’s lips.

“Okay, _okay._ Message received.”

Keith rests his head between the space of Lance’s shoulderblades and smoothes his hands up and down Lance’s sides as he’s bent over a table of schematics and shipping routes. Kneads his hands into the broad expanse of Lance’s back until he’s practically slumped over the table trying to fidget out from under Keith’s searching fingers.

“Knew you couldn’t stand to be in bed without me, Red.”

“You’re going to _sleep_ , Lance.”

Their friends and family are insufferable in the way they have waited and waited for Keith and Lance to finally come around and to support them as together.

Staying in love is easy.

Planning a wedding isn’t their favorite, but when it goes off without a hitch (an invasion, an intergalactic catastrophe, either of the grooms being late, the rings getting lost) it’s a rush.

It sings like battle in their blood and buzzes like victory in their heads, and an all-encompassing of rapture in their hearts where they’re pretty sure they’re dying as they take their seats together and the room toasts to them.

Honeymoon is an odd word on their tongues, tangles itself into something else. Being alive after a war, knowing peace time - that already felt like a honeymoon to the Paladins of Voltron. The concept circles in their minds because where would they go? What have they not seen?

Was there really any better place to be with their person than in the bed they made theirs?

Anywhere in the world they would be welcomed, where would they choose?

Lance: “Why stop with the world, babe? We have the entire cosmos.”

You would think after all of those days and nights and battles and scars, they would be tired of the endless space and faint glimmer of stars.

They pick a place a few galaxies and constellations from earth and just as they’re ducking into the car to take them to the hangar - they catch Krolia and Kolivan and Allura being heinously obvious passing a phone between them, speaking low and furtively. The shadows of the night don’t exactly hide Kolivan or really even Krolia, the low lights outside of the reception hall glinting in her dress, and Allura’s hair even swept back is still a beacon to Keith and Lance.

A planet needs some supplies and allies, a friendly presence in their skies?

Honeymoon is an odd word on their tongues.

What better place to be with their person than in the bed they made theirs?

On a ship with their team, the stars all around them.

They could reschedule a Honeymoon, if it meant that much to tradition and each other.

Or…they could make every day they are together, every place they go to live and help and grow and _thrive_ , their Honeymoon - their destination around the cosmos.

Unpack where they are hopelessly in love with one of their best friends. Irritating the other and making them laugh, learning languages and forming new traditions. Accepting “We should have known to expect you to do the unconventional,” as their house motto. There’s a rock or stone or mineral or gem or unclassified but completely non-toxic material from each Honeymoon on a shelf in their room.

Why stop at one?

Saturn has 82.

Why keep it to one day when it’s the rest of their lives together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you were around to remember that I said multiple times I was taking my stories down around in july, well - my life absolutely and completely fell apart in my hands. In a stress frenzy, I applied to a zine because if I was rejected, nothing to lose, and if I was accepted, it'd be the one thing to look forward to. Like maybe my life would be ironic enough that the one thing I resolutely renounced would be a light again. I feel numb being passed on because everything else is so much worse in comparison and I kind of expected it.
> 
> typing this out and posting it to tumblr was cathartic and that's all that I hoped for.


	8. lo-fi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** autumn is the true romance season and that’s that on that  
>  **rating:** general audiences  
>  **word count:** 1,131  
>  **tags:** fluff, boys! in! love!  
>  **warnings:** none!

It isn’t necessarily that he didn’t _believe_ Lance.

It was a miscalculation of how right he was.

How hard it was going to hit different.

When the leaves fall off of the trees in different colors and Lance starts to bring back the long sleeves and flannel and hoodies that smell like a permanent mix of his cologne and whatever fall-themed coffee he drinks.

Summer is wide and sprawling, open and raw like at any moment the bubble of sky curving over Earth will crack open from the heat and radiate out into the galaxy. The height of the day, highest point of heat with nowhere to hide. Everything seen.

Fall - It’s something like lo-fi - close and personal with that endearing, imperfect background fuzz that isn’t filtered out. The exposure of summer is dialed back, the edges of things aren’t as sharp. If you aren’t listening closely you might miss something already off and gone on the cool breeze. Summer is forward go, go, _go_ and fall turns back, on a time that lingers in the doorway long enough for you to turn around and say that thing you’ve been meaning to say. It rocks back on its heels and breathes.

Autumn is the true romance season.

Because of the feeling of the sleeves that fall a little over their knuckles that get trapped between their palms when they hold hands.

And that one time at a bonfire Lance grabbed both sides of the collar of his button-up shirt to drag him into a kiss?

There was solid merit there.

Lance had a habit of telling Keith obvious things and it would eventually be at a later date that it would knock Keith off his feet.

Some of those times Lance let a little of their old competitveness slip into the moment with them, but this time it’s a little undermined by the hand that Lance is dragging up and down Keith’s back. “King of romance, remember?”

He-

In Keith’s experience, Lance isn’t _wrong_ in that regard.

“Bar could be argued to have been set pretty low, though.” (Lance’s brand of romance is just that - Lance’s.)

Lance scoffs, but it happens in the same moment he wraps his arm around Keith to bring him close enough for Lance to turn and kiss into his mess of hair.

It isn’t like this all of the time.

They turn through phases where they just want to be around each other as much as possible.

Days where happiness and feelings catch up to them and words are short, but it’s all understood. Still a continual, silent conversation passing between them when they slide into one of their beds so Keith can watch Lance play Animal Crossing until they fall asleep. Completely and utterly hopeless in being with their person.

Not necessarily before every trip that separates them.

It’s just that it’s peak romance season and they have mutual free time so….

So the next morning when Lance is going back over his bag, triple checking that he’s got everything packed, Keith keeps a sharp eye on the hoodie neatly folded beside the open duffel bag. It’s something of a miracle that Lance hasn’t already accidentally packed it.

But a deal’s been made and Keith has no intention of letting that mistake happen.

Not in this house.

When Lance is happy after unpacking and repacking his bag two times, he turns to Keith with his hands on his hips and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for cool rocks to bring back to you.”

The eye roll Keith gives him is too fond to be mistaken for anything else, his voice soft around the edges. “You do realize we’re not 8, right?” 

Lance strides up to him, landing a soft punch to Keith’s shoulder. “Fine, then I’ll just keep all of the neat forest things I find to myself.”

Keith catches his hand and pulls him in, takes this moment - before Hunk eventually pulls into the driveway to pick Lance up - to wind his arms around his boyfriend. “Now don’t get hasty.” 

Lance will come back with odyssey long stories, paint the wide expanse of sky and stars into Keith’s bedroom ceiling and he’ll still smell like the campfires, pine, and cool air of fall. And yes, maybe even the occasional rock or leaf.

Instead of needling Keith a little more, Lance closes the distance between them and muffles his laughter against Keith’s mouth. When he pulls away, Keith tries to follow after him to make the moment last a little longer, to get Lance breathless with his smile ear to ear and a flush high on his cheeks, but Lance is on a mission.

He takes the hoodie folded on Keith’s bed and holds it between them, presses the familiar, soft material into Keith’s hands. “I believe this belongs to you for the next week.”

Keith doesn’t waste a moment wrapping his hands around the hoodie, doesn’t have any interest in feigning indifference or ignorance or any of the other aloof -ence and -ance attitudes penned to his name. “We’ll see if you get it back.”

“Hey, _you know_ that one’s my favorite.” Lance halfheartedly tries to wrestle it out of Keith’s hands, but it only ends with him wrapping his arms back around Keith. His hands clasped together resting at the small of Keith’s back. “Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Bold of you to assume you’d let me go to get to the closet.”

“We can make this work.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

Still in his arms. Still making a gross amount of affectionate eye contact.

Keith raises his eyebrows, smirk ticking up one side of his mouth as Lance groans and drops his arms.

Before _this_ , before Lance, it hadn’t been a particular thing he had spent much time thinking on. His clothes were his clothes and that applied to his partner, but Lance swept in and shook up Keith’s ideas on the cliché and got him hooked on it. Keith still feels a little spark and warmth in his chest as he moves Lance’s hoodie to drape over his arm so he can find the shirt he’s looking for and slip it off the hanger.

A deal’s a deal.

He tosses it to Lance.

Doesn’t miss the way his long, tan fingers run carefully over the fabric and buttons of Keith’s red flannel shirt before putting it on over his gray t-shirt.

He grins up at Keith— “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Keith eats up Lance’s expression he comes fast for him, gets his hands on the collar or his flannel shirt and yanks Lance forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://echotovalley.tumblr.com)


	9. aquaman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** teacher keith and aquarium worker lance  
>  **word count:** 1,160  
>  **rating:** g/k

He’d checked the permission slips three times - had his aid check behind him comparing it with the class roster - and had to settle for confirming with the parent chaperones twice (four would have felt like a good number).

The first trip of each class he taught brought back the first time jitters.

Will the kids behave for him?

Will they be even remotely interested in where he takes them, will they pay attention, etc?

Will the budget allow for it?

Will the parents say yes?

Will everyone get to go?

Will he manage to bring everyone back (he hasn’t left a kid behind yet and he doesn’t plan on that changing anytime soon)?

Do the parents like him, will they see him as a responsible teacher?

Will the bus break down?

And so on.

There had been hit and miss field trips he’s scheduled in the past and even chaperoned on before he had his own class. In Keith’s personal experience, there is no creature within the animal kingdom more ruthless than a group of 9 to 10-year-olds after a failed field trip.

And they tend to coordinate attacks in groups seemingly without prior rehearsal.

But the city aquarium was always a consistent crowd pleaser…

He got to be a part of this moment where a child may be seeing a penguin or shark or manta ray for the first time and realizing that the ocean is _amazing._ Even if it’s not something many people get to interact with in their career paths, it’s important that it’s taken care of and cherished - even if Emperor penguins or sea anemones are off limits.

Not that he’s biased.

(He’s absolutely biased.)

So when that okay comes down from his bosses, when he gets all of the permission slips signed and paperclipped together on his desk, when there’s a bus and smiling parent chaperones greeting the kids rocketing themselves over the steps and into seats - he has to take a steadying breath and remind himself that _he’s_ the _teacher._

* * *

The game plan with the parents is simple: divide and conquer.

They would move within smaller groups through the exhibits and past other aquarium visitors, a pattern of one tall human to every five small ones.

Keith was careful to make sure the shorter kids got to see it all too - even if it usually meant he ended the first leg of the tour with carrying someone on his back in exchange for walking a small distance, lifting said child up, setting them back down, and repeating the process for every little light filled window that housed something they couldn’t see in.

All of this bringing them to a small cocoon of space in front of a plate glass window where a member of the staff would talk to the class before they wrapped up the tour with the cold water exhibits.

The small chill in the air always sparked something and worked like an electric current through everyone as they ventured deeper into the aquarium. 

He’s in the middle of an unyielding debate with a student he’s packed around on his back for the last half hour, bending backward in hopes gravity would help him out here but instead they just cling tighter, when—

“Uh, Mr. Kogane?!”

Keith doesn’t immediately look up, it’s a small space where everyone’s supposed to be sitting down on the floor, so there’s not much room for catastrophe, and there are plenty of other adults around, so if it’s an emergency, there’s someone else to help him out while he’s tied up with an extraction.

“Can they do that?”

“Can _we_ do that?”

Like the snap of a rubberband, the weight on his back suddenly disappears and he lurches forward with the overcorrection of weight. When he gets himself together, it’s remarkably quiet.

Almost uncomfortably?

In his head, it all plays out like that scene in Jurassic Park when Ellie and Alan see the brachiosaurus for the first time. He feels himself move stupidly in slow motion, but in his defense in all of the years he had been coming to the aquarium (his own childhood included) he had never once seen what he was currently looking at.

What he hoped was a member of the staff in full diver gear - slowing dancing with a shark, happy and relaxed in the diver’s arms as they turned and swirled through the water with the other fish swimming past them like it was just another day. The shark happy to have the diver’s arm supporting its back and gently holding one of its front fins.

There was an audible noise as his mouth clamped shut, he shakes his head and tries his best to make his voice come out even. “No, you absolutely _cannot_ do that.”

He’s only partly successful.

Getting everyone off the glass and in their seats was almost impossible. 

Whatever idiot was in the tank at least made it a little easier by letting go of the shark at that moment, giving it a careful rub to its nose before kicking off into the water.

He was going to have to apologize for the 25 sets of handprints all over the glass.

What felt like ruthless hours of trying to wrangle his class back, reminding them that they would need to sit still and listen, the staff member supposedly in charge of the small lesson finally rounded the corner.

Sending the group back into chaos and a firing squad of questions.

The man looks to be about Keith’s age and he doesn’t miss the distinct smell of aquarium water or the damp glisten to his dark hair. When he finally looks away from the kids, sweeping his eyes across the room before they land on Keith - Keith doesn’t miss the opportunity to send him a withering look.

“So, what have you guys been studying in class?”

“Conservation and limiting human interference.”

He at least has the decency to look admonished, a little dusting of color blooming over his cheeks. “Oops. Thought I should open with something that would get their attention.” He raises his hands and shrugs, “But I can fix this.”

Keith shuffles back to the back of the room to stand with the other parents as the staff member turns back to the kids and smiles. “Hey guys, I’m Lance.

“Conservation is very important and so is being mindful of our impact in the ocean or any body of water that houses a flourishing ecosystem. Education is first and foremost at the aquarium, but we also strive to offer rehabilitation with hopes of returning anyone that comes our way back to their homes in the wild. Now - who can tell me what rehabilitation is?”

Keith’s frustration recedes a little (he refuses to be impressed) and a little bit of pride blooms in his chest as every one of his students’ hands shoots up into the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by that video of a diver slow dancing with a shark [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUaHDX3D998)
> 
> [tumblr](echotovalley.tumblr.com)


End file.
